Tijan – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Tijan – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:24:28 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0.1 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Tijan – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 A Hateful Negotiation Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/a-hateful-negotiation-read-online-tijan Sun, 01 Feb 2026 09:24:28 +0000 https://www.wownovels.com/a-hateful-negotiation-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)

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In a slow-burn mafia romance from New York Times bestselling author Tijan, a dangerous psychopath—and deadly crime boss—drops his defenses for the one girl he’s vowed to protect.

Creighton was a dangerous crime boss with a growing empire. And he’s a psychopath.

He’s also obsessed with Blake.

She wanted a normal life. That meant new friends and a life without Creighton.

Except when Blake moves to New York for her senior year of college, Creighton follows because he knows that danger is close behind. He has always protected Blake, and he always will protect her, even if Blake hates how ruthless Creighton has become for her.

However, once they’re in New York, the dynamics between the two begin to change. Tensions heat up, and soon their chemistry is sizzling beyond what Blake can handle.

That means that their usual back-and-forth has to change, with new rules and a new agreement.

Perhaps this negotiation could be for their happily ever after?

They’ll just need to survive each other first

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Blake

Eight years old

I looked up at the house. White paint. It had a green door. I liked that.

“Okay.” Mr. Nathan was sitting beside me. We’d come in his car, and he had some stuff on his lap. He was looking through some papers while he was huffing and muttering under his breath. I learned long ago that was just what Mr. Nathan did. He was in charge of me. He brought me to these homes, left me, and would come back later to ask how everything was going. I learned after the first home it was better if I always told him everything was fine.

I was fine.

He would ask. That would be my response, except some of the times, I wished I could ask if he could sneak me food. Sometimes there were no places to hide the food, but I was good at finding places. It was just making sure you hid your treats in there when no one was watching, and also getting them out. You had to be real sneaky.

But I hadn’t asked Mr. Nathan for the extra treats, just so my tummy didn’t growl. It bothered my last foster brother, and he’d punch me to make it stop.

I didn’t want to make him angry, but I couldn’t help my tummy. Punching me never stopped my tummy, so my foster brother would be angry all day long. That would make his real mom in a bad mood too. She didn’t like when her real son was angry.

It was my fault.

The last time Mr. Nathan came to see how I was doing, I didn’t need to say anything. He looked at me and started shaking without saying anything. I started to get worried I’d done something to make him mad, but he gave me a small smile and said we were going for treats.

Treats! I was a sucker for treats.

“You go and get your bag packed, Blake. Okay?”

My face hurt from when my foster mom had gotten angry at me, but I couldn’t hold the smile back. I kept my face tucked down so my foster mom or brother wouldn’t get mad at me again. Though, in my defense, I knew that they were just angry people. They wanted to hurt others, and I was the one in front of them. They were those kind of people.

I got to the stairs when Mr. Nathan called my name again.

I froze, scared he had changed his mind. I looked over my shoulder, and he was giving me another one of those nice smiles of his. I liked when he gave me that look. It meant everything was fine. That I hadn’t messed up.

He gave me a small nod. “Pack all of your items.”

My eyebrows shot up.

Did that mean . . . ?

A new sense of excitement rushed through me. Oh boy, oh boy. We were going for treats, and he wasn’t bringing me back. That meant I’d get so much food that my tummy would hurt, but I liked when it was that hurt. Too much food was never a problem for me.

I didn’t look at my foster mom and brother, though I could feel how angry they were.

That was how we were here now, in this driveway.

“What do you think, Blake? You think you might like living here?”

I looked at him. He was always so tired. He was a nice man, but he needed to learn how to comb his hair. Maybe I could give him one of my combs. I tended to get a new one each year for Christmas from the Salvation Army. I really only needed one, so yeah. I’d give Mr. Nathan one as his Christmas present from me.

We hadn’t even gotten to Halloween yet, but that meant it was three holidays away.

I nodded to Mr. Nathan. “I like the door.”

He paused before lifting his head. His eyes widened, and his mouth curved up in a smile, a real smile. “Oh. Yes. Well, look at that. Maybe they knew you were coming? A green door for a Miss Little Blake Green?” His eyes were twinkling now.

I giggled, but more because Mr. Nathan seemed actually happy. It wouldn’t last, but I still liked it when it happened. “You’re teasing me.”

He chuckled. “I am. You’re such a smart little girl.” He relaxed back in his seat, and I swear his smile got a little bit bigger and his eyes shone a bit happier. That made me happier. “This is a good home, Blake. Miss Marcie is a good woman. Now, there’s going to be a lot of other kids in there. So if you’re uncomfortable with anyone or scared, I want you to tell me.”

Some of my smile slipped.

“I mean it, Blake. I really do want you to tell me. Will you promise to tell me if there’s anything or anyone who scares you?”

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My Brother’s Enemy Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/my-brothers-enemy-read-online-tijan Sun, 07 Dec 2025 21:06:38 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/my-brothers-enemy-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Sports Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 121734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >126

Tyler Griffin is gorgeous, ruthless, and arrogant.
He’s also one of the best hockey players in the National Hockey League.
Not known to be a fighter on the ice, he has no problem dropping the gloves at the same time.
The sweet side of he has a twin sister that he would do anything for, including disregarding any rules if they mean he can’t protect who he loves.

I know all of this about Tyler because I know him.
We grew up in neighboring towns.
He played against my brothers and ironically, he still does because my brothers are also NHL franchise stars.

The rivalry was in high school.
We’re all adults now.
That means certain grudges should be forgotten…

Wrong.

The rivalry is very much alive.
The hatred is visceral between my brothers and Tyler.
As for myself, I have my own complicated relationship with my brothers.
But things are about to get heated because the NHL team that I recently accepted a position to work for just traded for a certain star Tyler Griffin.

He’s the enemy to both of my brothers, but he’s also mine.

A/ This is a 111k word standalone. New characters. Check TW in the beginning of the book

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

RAIN

Kansas City

Ishouldn’t have bought the gun.

What was I thinking?

I mean, I knew what I was thinking, but… What was I thinking?

A cold dose of reality slapped me in the face, and I slumped down.

Stupid. I was so stupid…

I sat in my kitchen, staring at the handgun on my table. Just staring at it. As soon as I got home after buying it, I’d put it there as if it might burn me.

I couldn’t bring myself to touch it again—not to move it, put it away, or fuck, use it for the reason I bought it. I couldn’t even think about that.

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

My phone buzzed, and I jumped, cursing. This was ridiculous. All of it. I reached for my phone and shoved up from my seat, needing space from the gun as I answered the call.

“Hello?” That came out garbled. I cleared my throat and tried again, stronger this time. “Hello! Sorry. This is Rain.” Powerful. Attagirl.

My name was Dylan Rain Connors. I was the third kid, following Daniel and Dane, and since my dad was already hooked on Dylan, the fact that I was a girl had no impact on his decision. He still named me Dylan, so my mom chose my middle name.

“Is this Dylan Connors?” asked the man’s voice on the phone. “Sports psychologist consultant?”

“Yes, but you can refer to me as a behavioral or mindset consultant. And it’s Rain, please.”

I had degrees in sports psychology, but my doctorate had focused on professional athletics. These days I helped professional athletes do better. Entire teams had hired me, as well as individuals, but what nearly all of my clients had in common was discretion. They didn’t want it out there that they needed a “doc” or “shrink” to help unravel whatever was stopping them from performing to their potential. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t either of those things. I was not their doctor, nor their shrink for their personal life.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

“Yes. Or so I’m hoping. You were recommended to me by a colleague, Gathaway.”

Oh. Justin had helped set me on my career path. I owed a lot of good things to him. “Of course. Justin. He’s a good person.”

“He is, and before I tell you my name or why I’m calling, I’m hoping you’ll meet with me. Dinner. I’d like to pitch something to you.”

I frowned, but a call like this wasn’t that unusual in my line of work.

His area code was 612, Minnesota—where I’d lived for half of my life. And he’d used Justin’s name on purpose.

I already knew I was going to hear him out because of Justin, but it just so happened that I’d be in Minneapolis over the weekend for a client.

I moved to the island, picking up a pen. “Okay. Tell me when and where.”

2

TYLER

New York

Iwoke up to my phone ringing and a hand stroking my dick. I was awake real fast after that. It was my sister’s ringtone, and she would never call at five in the morning unless it was an emergency. I shoved the girl’s hand off my dick—I’d stupidly neglected to call her an Uber last night—and swung my legs over the side of the bed as I reached for the phone.

“Yeah?” I grunted in greeting, knowing—goddamn knowing—but trying to tell myself that eerie fucking twin-vibe thing wasn’t happening. There’d been another call like this, at a similar time in the morning, and Skylar and I had never been the same. That call had let us know our parents had died in a car accident.

My sister’s sobs were the only thing I could hear at first.

Jesus. My heart sank.

I rose from the bed and snapped my fingers at the girl next to me.

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A Captive Situation (Kings of New York #3) Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/a-captive-situation-kings-of-new-york-3-read-online-tijan Thu, 12 Jun 2025 17:30:06 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/a-captive-situation-kings-of-new-york-3-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia, Suspense Authors: Tijan Series: Kings of New York Series by Tijan
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >113

New York Times bestselling author Tijan delivers a bold romance about two people wrestling with emotional trauma, thrown into a deadly—and heated—power dynamic when the mafia comes after them both.

Every bride dreams of her wedding day.

Today was supposed to be that day for me, except it’s not me marrying my college sweetheart.

My best friend is doing that. Or, well, my ex–best friend.

Instead, I’m over a thousand miles away, riding the subway in a city where lost people come to dream.

Me—I’m just hoping to distract myself from my heartbreak.

That is, until I met Jake Worthing.

Grumpy.

Hot.

A total jerk.

Did I mention hot?

Also, extremely presumptuous.

Just because I look like I’m a thought away from a total meltdown does not mean I need an ambulance.

He had the audacity to ask if I needed medical treatment.

Well, good riddance to him.

I don’t ever have to see him again.

Except, well, I do when I’m taken to the police station for a total misunderstanding.

He walks in and…gah. He’s the same that I remember from our first meeting.

Brooding. Still gorgeous. (The universe is not fair sometimes.)

He’s stirring up emotions that I didn’t know were still inside of me.

Then someone tries to shoot him and I’m a witness, and…er, how is it that I’m the one being kidnapped?

And by Jake?

Now I’m heated for a whole different reason.

If I get myself out of this captive situation, I’m going to reign down my own destruction starting with Jake Worthing.

I just have to survive first and, also, not get my heart broken. Again.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Sawyer

I was riding the subway in New York City for the first time, and a part of me was hoping the passengers around me would start singing The Lion King’s “Circle of Life.”

Logically, I’m sure that rarely happened, but if there was a chance? I was down for it.

Hear me, Universe. Broadway rendition of any song. I’m not picky.

I waited, looking around. There were some people passed out. A bunch of college students. Other workers. I leaned back, eyeing a group of athletic-looking people. They looked like they could be dancers. Broadway dancers?

I was hoping for it, but then the next stop happened and they got off.

Okay. I deflated.

Maybe not.

The last guy I was holding out for was scowling to himself and was fixated on his phone. He had the build. Broad shoulders. He wasn’t slim, or he didn’t seem like it as he was sitting, but he had the looks. And by that I meant that he was hot. Super hot. He was solidly built. There was no excess weight on him. All muscle. Fierce eyes. A clenched jawline. Leather jacket, black Henley, and jeans. Dark hair that was cut short on the sides and left with enough to grab a hold of on top.

He looked as if he could handle himself in a fight, and in my mind, that meant he was made for Broadway.

His energy was all off, though. He seemed all growly, not as though he was ready to burst into song. Perhaps he was the Beast? Or no . . . Gaston?

No. Gaston didn’t seem to fit either. Total Beast.

His phone buzzed and he answered it, turning away. I couldn’t make out his words, but his very gravelly and pissed-off clipped tones were now about to segue into the beginning of “Seasons of Love.”

I was waiting.

Expecting.

Sigh.

It wasn’t going to happen.

My phone buzzed at that moment, too, and I checked my text.

Mom: Hi honey! How is New York? Are you safe? Did you see the Wall Street bull yet? I know you were so excited to check it out.

My mom was under the impression I was here as a tourist. Which I was. I had an entire tourist checklist of things to do: See a Broadway show, go to a museum, maybe go nuts and eat at some fancy restaurant that only New York City seemed to have. I wanted to go to Ellis Island, tour the Statue of Liberty, find out what this Canal Street was all about. Then there was Times Square, though I was a bit iffy on this naked cowboy character.

The other reason I was here in New York and not back home was because of just that, I would not be back home. So since I was avoiding anything and everything that reminded me of Montana, I was going to skip seeing this cowboy person, naked or not. We had enough cowboys back home.

Another item I wanted to check off my list was to meet my cousin. I’d met his sisters a few times. They lived a few hours away, but not Graham. That was going to change on this trip. My mom was close to two of my aunts, but there was a rift between the three of them and Graham’s mom. I’d asked my mom what the issue was, but she never gave me a great answer. She liked to deflect. So while I was here, I was taking things into my own hands.

I’d cyberstalked Graham and he looked awesome. He was adopted, he and his two sisters. He was an architect. He had a husband. He liked to travel. I could get so many great tips on being the ultimate tourist from him.

I was hoping when I met Graham, and when he fell in awesome cousin love with me, that we could conspire on how to bring the sisters together.

That was the secret mission. That, and the whole “not being at home” because this was also the week that I was supposed to be getting married.

But I wasn’t, because Beck dumped me.

Beck, the same guy that I’d been with since college.

The same guy that I helped put through chiropractic school.

The same guy that wanted me to quit the receptionist job I loved to work for him, which I did.

The same guy that I gave almost two decades of my life. We’d been engaged for the last two years, but then he decided to fill me in on a simple thing where he’d been cheating on me for the last three years. And that they were having a child.

He and Manda.

And that person he was cheating on me with—Manda—was my best friend from college.

I was about to lose it. This was what happened when I let myself ruminate.

There were thoughts.

And feelings.

And anger. Lots and lots of anger.

I couldn’t let myself think about it, because if I did, then I was going to lose my mind.

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Kade – Fallen Crest High Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/kade-fallen-crest-high-read-online-tijan Thu, 19 Dec 2024 11:51:04 +0000 http://www.wownovels.com/kade-fallen-crest-high-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Suspense Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >135

I have fought.
I have bled.
I have wreaked havoc for my family.

Anyone who threatened us, tried to break us, I broke them instead.

Then, there was peace.
Marriage.
Children.
Life was good.
Life was great.

Until my phone rang one night.

Retired, I was no longer in the NFL.
We'd recently moved back to Fallen Crest.
So I should’ve known.
I should’ve remembered.

There is no peace in Fallen Crest.

War wasn’t coming.
It was already here.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

MASON

My brother and I exchanged a glance when we arrived at our father’s company, and it wasn’t a good look. No words were needed. We both knew whatever we were walking into would not be welcomed. It was midnight. Our dad’s business had morphed into a huge corporation, and his headquarters had grown with it. At this time of night, no one was here.

Logan shut his car door first, and I moved to follow, but as we hit the pavement, I took the lead. He angled himself to cover my back, literally and metaphorically. I hadn’t needed him to have my back in so long. A lot had changed in the last few weeks. I retired from the NFL and we recently moved to Fallen Crest, but me and Logan, our dynamic hadn’t changed. It never would. He was my brother. We’d been each other’s shadows our entire life.

“You feel that itch?” Logan asked once we were inside and waiting for the elevator.

I grunted, not wanting to admit it, but fuck, it was there. “Yeah,” I said gruffly, glancing over my shoulder. No one was there.

The elevator arrived. The doors opened. We stepped in, and Logan said as he hit the button for our dad’s floor, “I don’t like this.”

I nodded. I was right there with him.

The elevator began to rise, and the closer we got to the top floor, impending doom blanketed me. I didn’t want to talk. Logan must’ve felt the same because he was quiet too.

Absolute silence.

I didn’t know what we were going to find upstairs.

James sent us a text telling us to see him immediately. Our dad included the location: his office.

He’d been struggling, and before we moved back, we started visiting more often because of this. Analise died six months ago from cancer. His wife was also the mother of my wife, and the reason I’d met Samantha and fell in love with her when I did. I would have met Samantha and fallen in love with her anyway—it was inevitable—but the timing had been all about Sam’s mother. She dated my dad and decided to leave her husband.

I still remember when I first saw Sam. It was at a gas station, and she blew me away.

That had never stopped or changed. I was still blown away as she planned our daughter’s upcoming eighteenth birthday with Heather Monroe. Her best friend. They’d been laughing like school girls in the media room when I’d popped in to let her know I needed to run out to check on my dad. Sam sobered enough to give me a sharp look, the unspoken question in her eyes if I needed anything. I gave her a short shake of my head, answering without words before I took off. She’d settled back, but I knew she’d be awake and waiting for me when I got home.

She was like that. Fucking amazing.

As we approached James’s office, there was a soft glow of light coming from under the door.

Logan cast me another glance as we got to the door, but I opened it, striding inside. I wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

Once inside, I stopped and took inventory before saying anything.

The light was coming from Dad’s computer screen, but he wasn’t in front of it. He was standing at his floor-to-ceiling windows, his back turned to us as he stared out over Fallen Crest. The town had grown steadily over the last few years, becoming a vacation destination for celebrities and the wealthy.

A near-empty bottle of Jack Daniels hung from James’s hand.

He always kept himself trim, but the last few months wore on him. His hair was messed. His shirt was wrinkled. There was a defeated slump in how he stood. The proud man he used to be wasn’t in this room. I didn’t recognize this father of mine anymore.

He waved his empty hand toward the window. “Look at it. Look at that, sons.” There was a slight slur to his words.

Logan stepped up to my side with a dark look. I understood how he felt.

It wasn’t unusual for us to walk in and find our father trashed. However, after being a horrible husband and a horrible father most of our lives, when his wife had needed him during her mental health struggles, he stepped up.

He became a decent human being.

He was also a good grandfather to my kids, and to Logan’s kid. They loved their grandpa, and they’d been heartbroken when Analise passed away—another giant step, because she’d been a truly despicable parent to Samantha. When she’d committed to staying in the hospital until she was stabilized, she also changed as a person.

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Frisco Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/frisco-read-online-tijan Thu, 22 Aug 2024 20:06:10 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/frisco-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >119

Tall. Muscled. Tattooed.
Shane King was seriously hot, and seriously not a good guy.
He went by the name Ghost with his motorcycle club, and he was now their national vice president.

When Shane and his club arrived in town, they began doing favors for my family.
I didn’t know why. I didn’t want to know.
Favors came with strings attached. I didn’t want strings attaching me to the Red Demons.

Shane was a different beast, though.
I should steer clear of him, except I couldn’t.
He was everywhere, and he always looked like he wanted to tie me up in all sorts of strings.

A part of me wanted to let him.
A part of me yearned to let him.
But no.

Shane might act like the hero, but he wasn’t.
He was the villain.
And I was about to learn that the strings that came with Shane…
…they would be my unraveling.

** This is a standalone motorcycle club romance.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

KALI

When two bikers started trading punches in the middle of the soup aisle, and my first thought was Why couldn’t they have picked the bakery section?, the universe was telling me something.

What was it telling me? That my life was sad. But newsflash, universe: I already knew that. I’ve known that since I came out of my mom’s vagina in the alley behind Grumps and Hoes. That was their witty name for a hardware store.

“Kal.” Otis was huffing as he ran up behind me, and even though I didn’t look, I knew he was pulling up his pants. They liked to sag down, a lot.

Otis was the manager of Friendly’s Grocery Mart. He always meant well, but Otis didn’t much like to manage. He came in, said hello to whoever was in his path, did a walk through the store, and then checked in with me. I didn’t have the official title, but I was the actual manager. I handled the scheduling, the inventory, and making sure everything ran smoothly. This wasn’t a position I’d volunteered for, but my second day back, the assistant manager took a smoke break and never returned. Maybe it was my age (I’m thirty-six), or maybe it was because Otis was flustered and came to me, asking me what was needed for the second shift.

My second day back.

Otis and I had history, but not that kind of history.

We’d both worked here in high school. I moved away, got married, never had kids, and I was back since my divorce was seriously fresh. Otis was the opposite. He never did anything. He stayed, and he just kept getting promoted. He’d made it about four positions to the general manager now. Friendly’s Grocery Mart was locally owned, but the owner spent most of his time hunting or drinking beer and talking about hunting. I could attest to this because he was at Bert’s Pub every night, drinking beer and—you guessed it—talking about the mystical buck all the local hunters liked to discuss.

But since the day I’d returned, everyone took note of my ability to have some idea of what was going on. And like an idiot, I couldn’t handle seeing a store falling into chaos. I’d run the store when I was in high school and college. So it was like pulling on an old pair of tennis shoes. There might’ve been mold, and holes where toes were supposed to go, but they still fit. Unfortunately.

“What are you going to do?” Otis panted as he asked.

“Kali, you want me to call the police?” asked Ben, our bagger who was only supposed to work part-time.

He ended up being here most of the time because Otis was an asshole and called him nearly every day, asking if he could pick up some extra hours. The schedule was handled. I did it, and the point of me not scheduling Ben every day was so that the actual bagger scheduled to work today would have to, you know, do his job. But unlike Ben, who was a hard-working high schooler who probably should’ve been given more breaks in life than he was going to get, the actual bagger wasn’t so great at his job… I didn’t know why he kept it.

I gave him a look, finding him on the edge of the gathering crowd. Noah Berrman, high school jock. The girls liked to come in and whisper, giggle, flirt when he was scheduled (which is probably why Otis hadn’t fired him), but Noah didn’t work. When a cute girl was in line, suddenly he was great at pretending to bag groceries, but he excelled more at standing, talking, winking, flirting, being the cool guy. Right now, though, he wasn’t looking too cool. He was as captivated as everyone else.

Seeing Mrs. Johnson gaping and Viola Prinnesly looking faint, I sighed. It was time to wade in.

“No,” I said to Ben. “Go back to work. Noah.”

He looked at me.

I motioned toward the registers. “Get back to work. Everyone, go back to shopping.”

“Don’t you stop this. This is better than Jeopardy.” Viola shook her wrinkled finger at me, but she wasn’t looking my way. She was busy drinking in all the biker goodness.

I had to admit, I understood. Muscles. There were muscles everywhere.

“Kal, you sure?” Otis breathed behind me.

I suppressed a shiver and a roll of nausea. “Yes, Otis. If Mike comes in, send him back out. These guys are Red Demons. You do not want to call the cops on them. Trust me.”

I heard the hitch in his breath and decided I didn’t want to know if it was from fear or excitement.

Most of the patrons had gone back to shopping, though Viola and Mrs. Johnson were doubling down. Mrs. Johnson had sat down on her walker. Viola leaned against the side of it, her cane resting beside her.

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My Anti Hero Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/my-anti-hero-read-online-tijan Tue, 27 Feb 2024 19:57:54 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/my-anti-hero-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Insta-Love, Sports, Suspense Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >160

I shouldn't have agreed to this. What was I thinking?Appearing on a local news show? Just because something happened to me?I live mostly in isolation on purpose.

But here I am.I was so nervous that I needed the make-up chair, twice.And then I walked past his room.

He's a giant—no softness, all muscle.And a rich beard that made me want to rub myself all over it.He made me see stars, literally because the second time I saw him, I tripped.Or I would've, but he caught me, and the cameras were rolling.Soon, that clip will be trending because he wasn't just another guest on the show.

He's Brett Broudou, the Kings' newest football star.We couldn't be more opposite.The only special thing about me is the reason I was on the show.Brett, the Super Bowl champion, and me, the survivor who helped bring down the infamous Midwest Butcher.

Brett might not think he's anyone's hero, but he's about to become mine.

A/ This is a 140k standalone.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

BILLIE

This was the most moronic, stupid-endous, idiotic move of all moves I’d made in the last ten years. And I’d done some seriously stupid shit. But agreeing to be interviewed on a local news channel when I lived mostly as a hermit was, yeah, just plain dumb.

My armpits looked like they’d been dipped in buckets of water, and there were red splotches all over my arms.

I’d already been in the hair and makeup chair, so not only was I screwed, the news people were screwed. No touchup was going to fix the mess my nerves were making of my body.

“Willow, are you ready…?” One of the show’s staff came in, saw me, and promptly trailed off as horror flashed over his face. He clutched his clipboard to his thin frame and reached for his radio. A forced smile plastered over his face. “If you’ll excuse me? One moment.”

He was in the hallway in a flash, and I could hear his slightly panicked voice. “We need a fixer in guest room two ASAP.” Click. “Also, we’ll need to switch segments. Alert the prompter.” He continued speaking, but his voice grew quieter, so he must’ve been walking away.

This was my fault. All my fault.

I worked alone, dealing with clients over the internet. Graphic design. Any contact was through email or private messages. Or sometimes a phone call, which was fine.

It’s not like I was some social recluse. I could be around people. I was around people growing up from the time I went into foster care at age twelve until I got lucky on my tenth home. The couple took a liking to me, and though they’d never adopted me legally, they’d raised me in every other way. I lived with them until I turned eighteen, then took over their guesthouse, and I’d been there ever since. They charged me almost nothing, just enough to cover their gas and electric, and I’d been able to finish high school, put myself through community college, and take a few extra classes in Photoshop. That had gotten me to where I was now. Well, not exactly here. Only my dumbass self was to blame for my current predicament.

“Oh dear.” Frantic energy brought my attention to the doorway, where the makeup guy now stood. He shook his head, talking into his radio. “We’ll need wardrobe. A new shirt for sure.” He spoke to me. “Honey, you’ll need my chair again. Come on. You can tell me what’s going on too. You got nerves? Is that it?”

I followed him through the back of the studio.

“I guess with what you went through, you wouldn’t want to talk about it? I wouldn’t either. If I were you—” He prattled on, but I mostly tuned him out. It was all things I’d heard before.

Still, I was able to respond when he said something that required a response—a nod when needed and a grunt or yeah of agreement when it was appropriate. I’d learned to do that a lot over the years, mentally checking out. Usually, if and when people recognized me or heard my story, they wanted to talk because everyone knew about my story.

It used to be overwhelming.

Because I was more focused on studying the wall as we walked along the hallway, I wasn’t expecting what happened next that happened next. We passed a doorway—and it hit me.

It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was most definitely lust at first sight.

It hit me hard, right in the sternum, and I stopped in my tracks. Actually and literally stopped. My mouth wasn’t on the floor, because I was too reserved for that, but it was definitely open. Some drool action might’ve happened.

Coming out of another room was a giant. Or he looked like a giant.

He was massive. There was no softness about him. He was all muscle, and holy gods, I was reeling.

Tan skin.

Rich black hair.

A yummy looking beard that made me want to rub myself all over it.

A thick neck.

Square jaw.

Massive shoulders.

Massive pectorals.

Holy—his entire chest was large and in charge but ended in a tapered waist.

The guy, whoever he was, had me seeing stars. And I wasn’t like this. Ever.

My last relationship had been with a guy in community college. I’d had a brief relationship with a girl before then, but that was it. I didn’t do casual sex, and I’d learned it was easier just staying away from most people in general, for everything. But this guy made me ache for things I’d never experienced in my life.

I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

I was usually locked down, or actually, I didn’t even need to lock down. I’d just learned not to expect a whole lot of good from people. So I was completely unprepared for the whiplash of need and want and yearning that now raged inside me.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >160

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A Christmas Song – Ryan’s Bed holiday Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/a-christmas-song-ryans-bed-holiday-read-online-tijan Mon, 01 Jan 2024 09:40:46 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-christmas-song-ryans-bed-holiday-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, College, Contemporary, Drama, Sports Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >41

The first year was fun. Simple.I had a great roommate, and I was hooking up with a basketball player.Then life happened, and my whole trajectory changed.Gone was the hook-up. Gone was the roommate.My new goal in life wasn’t to enjoy it. It was to get through each day by being blissfully numb.It was working.Until I woke up in my ex’s bed one morning.No purse. No phone. No keys.No memory of what happened.First things I needed to get my ex off my vagi—back. I needed to get him off my back.I needed to get my things.I wasn’t sure if I wanted to remember the night before, but my ex was suddenly reminding me how he’s overbearing, arrogant, demanding, and hot.Damn. He’s still so hot.He’s also making me remember things that could have disastrous consequences.For him. For me.And most certainly for my heart…* A Christmas Song is a Ryan’s Bed + spin-off novella because it is written from Mackenzie’s point of view and Maren’s point of view (Mackenzie’s roommate.) Both girls will take the reader on the day after from the fallout of a prior night’s event and the end will surprise everyone.* Expect lots of Ryan and Mackenzie, but also get ready for Maren and Cristiano!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

MAREN

Where the fuck was I?

I pushed up, sitting up, and everything was aching in me. It’s the hangover of all hangovers, and. . . I looked around. Jesus. Seriously. Where was I?

This wasn’t Jude’s room—I saw Cris’ basketball jersey.

Fuck.

I was in my ex’s room. Although, Cris Chavez and I had never really been in a relationship. We would hook up. Then he would ignore me…until we would hook up again.

The door opened and the smell of coffee hit me right before my stomach pushed up something else to my throat. “Mornin—”

I flung back the blanket and ran for the bathroom. Apparently, he had his own. I fell to my knees, and seeing Cris coming in behind me, I kicked his door shut right as I let loose with the first upheaval in my stomach.

“Hey!” He pounded on the door. “Come on, Maren. Let me in.”

God.

Jesus.

Shit.

What had I done? Honest to God asking here. I looked down at myself, seeing I wasn’t in the clothes I—what had I done last night?

“Maren!” He pounded on the door again.

I ignored him.

It’d been my go-to for handling so much other stuff in my life. Just shut up. Keep it moving. Head down. Survive.

So far it’d been working, but this? Cris? Did we fuck last night?

Jesus. Jude.

Jude! He had a gig last night. I went to the bar with Amber and Toya. We partied beforehand, but that’d been the usual. Nothing new there. I couldn’t remember past pre-partying at Toya’s. We were drinking. She pulled out some other things, but they partook. I didn’t. I stayed away from drugs. I had enough issues to handle. I didn’t need to add another one, but I was trying to remember. . . I’d been in a car. We were going to the bar. I was in the back and that was it.

I didn’t remember anything past that.

What the hell?

My body chilled at the same time panic seared me.

“Come on, Maren. Come out. I want to talk to you.”

I shut it all down, I had to. It’d been my go-to for just getting through life lately, but once I was done throwing up, I looked under Cris’ cabinet. He usually kept an extra toothbrush somewhere.

Found it.

He and I hadn’t been exclusive, but I got to know him from whatever we had been. I mean, the first time I saw him making out with a girl at a party, I’d felt kicked in the stomach, but I got my act together after that. We were in the NCAA division for basketball and Cris was on the team, a starting player. He wasn’t one of their best two players, but he was in the solid top five. He was their best power forward. I’d been ecstatic when we first started hooking up. His roommate and my roommate were already dating. Cris was hot. He seemed to like me. It made sense, but stupid me, I thought we’d been exclusive until. . . Yeah. Until I learned differently.

Ugh. Here I was, thinking about the past when I had real shit to handle.

After quickly brushing my teeth, I grimaced when I looked at myself. Pale. God. I changed my hair color to black with blue highlights. I was always a strawberry blonde type and I liked wearing make-up, but I blended last year. There was nothing that stood out about me. Typical party girl and when I changed my hair, I wanted to change everything. I started going darker with my make-up and though I usually enjoyed the smokey eye look, it was not looking so good this morning. I might need to rethink my make-up choices.

I tried to do what I could with my hair, and washed my face clean.

Cris started to pound on the door again when I thrust it open.

His eyes widened, his hand in mid-knock, and he blinked at me. “Hi.”

I scowled, brushing past him.

“Uh—what? Hey!”

I couldn’t be here.

I could not be here.

That was on repeat in my head as I rushed around his room, looking for my things. My clothes. My purse. My phone?

“Hey!”

There was nothing here. I rounded on him. “Where’s my shit?”

Cris looked at me for a second before anger flared and he scowled at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Where’s my stuff, Chavez?” I huffed again, my hands on my hips. “You can’t take my things and keep them from me. Where are they?”

There was a tick of silence, and I looked away.

I couldn’t stare at him, not when he was getting pissed right back at me.

I’d forgotten how hot Cris was. He was six five. Wide shoulders. Lean frame, but he had some bulk on him. It’s why they made him a power forward. He was good at shoving his way around under the basket. Brown skin that sometimes was so sleek and smooth when he was sweating that he made me want to lick every inch of him. Black hair that he was letting grow out a little this year. It’d been kept short last year, almost a crew cut. This year, he had enough where it was messily rumpled, and I got one look and my vagina was remembering the last time we fucked.

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Pine River Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/pine-river-read-online-tijan Wed, 25 Oct 2023 18:31:50 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/pine-river-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 151765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >154

Pine River was supposed to be a new start for me.
And it was, especially attending school with my three overprotective cousins, who were the triplets at the top of the social hierarchy.
Except they weren't alone there, and the first day when I came to school, I saw him.

Scout Raiden.
Tall. Lean. Tattooed. Mesmerizing.
He was a golden god with dark and piercing eyes-looking like he wanted to eat me up.

The feeling was mutual, and that was a problem.
It was lust-want-must have-loathing-hate all at once. I was affected.
And I couldn't have that. No way.
Not after what I'd just left in Cedra Valley.

I didn't care how much money his uncle had.
I didn't care that it seemed every girl wanted him.
I didn't care about his reputation as an up-and-coming fighter.
Or the promise of how those hands would make me feel.

What I did care about was staying as far away from Scout as possible.
Because the promise of his presence, the heat that was going to turn the light back on in my world wasn't a promise at all.
It was a threat.

I wasn't going to survive Scout Raiden.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

RAMSAY

Creak!

I opened my eyes to the sound of someone sneaking into the house.

I rolled over and checked the clock. Seven twenty-eight in the morning.

I knew who was sneaking in. It usually wasn’t the parent creeping in at this time of day. I sighed and sat up. My mom was coming home from a double shift at Pine River Nursing Center. She was being the adult, doing all sorts of adult things the way she always did. She’d made the hard decision that what we’d had back in Cedra Valley was dunzo, and since we were in a situation where we needed family, off we went to Pine River. The population here was barely three thousand, which was the opposite of everything we were used to. My last school had that number of people just in my grade.

I got up, not fighting a yawn, and headed to the bathroom.

Washing. Putting on makeup—the whole ordeal.

Then came choosing my clothes, and since it was my first day at Pine River High School, I knew I needed to be smart about it. Clothes were important. Clothes made the first impression, and I didn’t want too flashy. That was another lesson learned from this last year: Don’t be flashy. Don’t stick out. Don’t be a target. But I wasn’t a wallflower either. I wasn’t a pushover.

Hmmm . . .

I went with tight black jeans, a textured gray short-sleeve tank that tied in the front with a red flannel shirt over it to cover my arms. My light gray high tops rounded out the outfit—oh, and long, black feather earrings.

There.

I was preppy, edgy, and cutesy, but also nothing on me stood out to put me in the pretty-girl clique. I was pushing toward fashionable tomboy, and that was more me than I’d ever been back in Cedra Valley.

It felt good.

It felt right.

I could pull this uniform off for a year—my last year, then it was off to college and WTFK (who the fuck knew).

I sighed and took one last look in the mirror.

I had dark brown hair, but my highlights gave me a tawny brown look. I kept it shoulder length so I could sweep it back and not worry about it.

Not that I had to since it never got flat. It never got frizzy. There was always a slight curl to it, and when it dried, it looked healthy and shiny. I had fan-fucking-tastic hair. That also meant I stayed away from product. I wasn’t a dummy. I splurged with what money I had and bought the good stuff for shampoo. No conditioner. That was it. I kept it simple, but it worked for me.

I had almond-shaped dark eyes and a heart-shaped face—symmetrical. I’d been told that meant it was appealing to the eye. No bullshit, I had a face I could do almost anything with. Being confident in my looks wasn’t my problem. I was confident, but not arrogant. There was a difference. My mama taught me to love my body, love my mind, and love my soul. I did all three, but that didn’t mean everyone else did. Because of that, I was on a mission for no drama, no fighting, no targeting, no jealousy. Blend but not let anyone target me either.

Okay. My pep talk done, I nabbed my backpack and headed to the kitchen.

“Hey, sweetie,” my mom called.

I left my bag in the hallway and rounded the corner. She was at the toaster, and I stopped for a moment and took her in. She was tired. She had the same hair as me, but she’d put hers up into a clip. She also didn’t believe in makeup because, what was the purpose anymore? Her scrubs were baggy on her because she’d gone to the thrift store for those. She had good sneakers, though. She needed them since she was on her feet for sixteen hour shifts.

“Morning. Did you eat?” I asked as I helped myself to the coffee, knowing she’d brewed this pot for me.

“I did on my last break.” She set my toast on a plate and put it on the counter.

After grabbing some creamer, I went over and sat, but I didn’t stop eyeing my mom.

We were in an odd situation.

We had money, or we were supposed to have money. My dad’s family was fighting for what he’d left us, so what money we had, we might just lose to the lawyers. Mom and I understood that, while we might have some nice things from our previous life, those could be the only nice things we’d have for the foreseeable future.

My mom had gotten an education, but she had never used her degree. She married my dad and did whatever housewives did. Back in Cedra Valley, that was a lot of volunteering, a lot of luncheons, a lot of shindig parties in the evening, and a lot of gossiping. To Mom’s credit, she didn’t partake in the gossip, but she was friends with those ladies because usually the bigger the gossip, the bigger the purse. My mom cared about giving back, so being friends with those types was a requirement.

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A Cruel Arrangement (Kings of New York #2) Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/a-cruel-arrangement-kings-of-new-york-2-read-online-tijan Mon, 01 May 2023 20:22:24 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/a-cruel-arrangement-kings-of-new-york-2-read-online-tijan Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Authors: Tijan Series: Kings of New York Series by Tijan
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >125

From New York Times bestselling author Tijan comes the intensely passionate story of a man trying to make amends and the woman who makes him want to keep his promises.

This was my place. My business. Easter Lanes.

Then a guy comes in, trying to rob me, daring to take it away from me.

My home. My life.

Hell no. I won’t let my livelihood be threatened.

No one knows what I’ve done to build this life for myself.

Except he might.

Ashton Walden, a man I remember from when we were kids.

Even back then I could tell how dangerous he would be one day.

He’s now the head of the Walden mafia family, and my father is so in debt to them that they practically own him.

My dad and I are estranged and I want nothing to do with him or his debt, but the day after the attempted robbery, I don’t wake up in the hospital.

I wake up in Ashton Walden’s home. And he drops a bomb on me.

If I want my livelihood back, I need to earn it back.

And thus begins our cruel arrangement.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

MOLLY

I had a problem.

I was pointing a gun at a guy with green makeup on his face, and I kept thinking how he looked like that goblin guy from one of those superhero movies. A bubble of laughter was coming up in my sternum. I tried stopping it, I did, but once it was past my throat, it was hopeless.

I bent over, my gun still in the air, and the laughter was kapoosh! Totally coming out of me.

I winced, hearing a note of hysteria on the edge of it.

“Molly!” That was my employee who was on the ground, his arms folded behind his head as he lay on his stomach, and I could hear how horrified he was.

I raised my head back up, steadied my arm, and cleared my throat. “Let’s review the changes that just happened here. You”—I shook my gun, indicating the green guy—“came in here, to my bowling alley, to rob us. Correct?”

He had a rifle aimed at me, and it was at this point I realized how crazy I really was.

Like, seriously crazy.

A rifle against my handgun. And I was laughing.

I was verging on lunacy. A lunatic. Me.

But he was wearing green makeup, so there could be an argument about who was the more irrational one in this situation.

“You do this sort of thing often?”

“Molly, my god.” That was from a different employee. “What are you doing?”

We had a good situation here. Not the robbery, obviously, but what I’d built in this business. Easter Lanes. This was my place. My business. I was proud of what I’d done for the bowling alley when I took it over from my dad. He’d already run it into the ground, so I seized an opportunity when he was particularly vulnerable, and he was a lowlife street gambler, so those moments were fairly common. We were talking twice a month, but this time was when he was up a literal shit creek and he had no one to come and save him. So, me, being his daughter, well, I took a page from his book—I conned him. Meaning, he called me for bail money and he seemed extra frenzied to get out of there, which probably meant there was someone on the inside who wanted to give him some sort of beating.

I told him I wouldn’t post his bail until he gave me the bowling alley. I was aware that some debts came with the business, but at that point in my life, I had nothing to lose. So I got the bowling alley, renovated what I could, and have continued renovating it over the years as profits got better. I paid off the bowling debts, but that was it. Anything to do with Easter Lanes was all mine. Added a whole pub part and gaming section so families could come here too.

I made sure it appealed to all ages to maximize our customers.

And it worked.

This robber guy had no clue what he was threatening here. This was my life. My only life.

This place was in my blood, and because of all of that, yeah, I went a little unhinged when I looked up and saw a rifle pointing at me.

“What are you playing at, woman?! I told you to give me the money. Why are you waiting? Give me the money!”

Oh, boy.

Boys, girls, don’t try this at home.

The register drawer was closed. The key was right next to it. I looked at my staff because they knew where the extra keys were, but . . . I could grab it, so quick. I could—I did something. That I was going to regret.

“Molly!” from my one employee.

And my second employee. “What did you do?!”

My staff was shouting and gasping, but one scream drowned out the rest. The green-faced robber was shrieking at me, shaking his gun. “What did you do?! You crazy psycho bitch!”

I swallowed the key to get into the register.

That’s what I did.

I was still holding my gun up, but it was shaking because my hand was shaking because my arm was shaking because I was shaking. My whole body was trembling, and I was tasting tears.

Enough!

Screw this. I’d not endured my whole tragic, sad story of a life to get it all taken away from me by this guy. “You come in here! Thinking you’re going to rob my place! This is mine. And I’m not going to take this. You know who my dad is?”

I had temporarily stunned the green-faced robber, because he began backing up, slowly inching away from me. He’d forgotten he had the rifle in his hands, but he paused at my question. “Your dad?”

I could see the realization start coming to him.

His eyes were flickering, skirting, panicking, and he was beginning to remember that some businesses in our neighborhood were hooked in. I’m talking Mafia-style hooked in. I wasn’t above using some of that intimidation if it meant I wasn’t going to be arrested for homicide today.

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >125

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Hockey With Benefits Read Online Tijan http://www.wownovels.com/hockey-with-benefits-read-online-tijan Fri, 24 Mar 2023 15:25:47 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hockey-with-benefits-read-online-tijan Genre: College, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Authors: Tijan Advertisement

Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 120176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >123

Hockey with benefits. That was what Mara proposed, and I was down.

She said no feelings and she meant it.
Just benefits. No strings attached. Nothing else. Not even friendship.
College was her escape, including us.
I didn’t have time for a girlfriend.
I had classes, the team, my family, and the game.
It was all working too…
Until somewhere down the line, things got messy.
Until somehow we were dealing with threats, secrets, rivals, and so much more.
Until I began to want her in ways that weren’t part of the deal.

Our agreement didn’t just get checked into the wall, it got obliterated.

** This is a 109k standalone

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

MARA

I liked hockey. I already knew it, but by the third period, I really knew it.

The wine might’ve been a factor, or the two beers that my roommate bought me, but either way, I was having fun. I had a new appreciation for the sport.

I was also enjoying watching Cruz Styles, the team’s star player, zip around the rink like he’d been born on skates and not with two normal feet. He wasn’t the only one, though. They were all going so fast, like they were flying on ice. It was exhilarating to watch. It wasn’t my first hockey game, but it was my first hockey game at Grant West. Everyone on campus had been raving about the new guy for a while now.

His looks didn’t hurt either.

His picture was flashed on the jumbotron so many times over the night that I’d lost count. It was having an effect on the three girls in front of me, and also in my vagina. With the hockey mask on, you could still see his fierce dark blue eyes. His high cheekbones. With the mask off, he had a whole chiseled jawline that wasn’t legal. I swear. And those cheekbones were set high and wide, giving the sides of his face an indented look, but it worked on him. Not to mention the messy dark hair on top of his head and how he had the look where he could rifle his hand through it, let it go and he still looked fucking hot. Comb that shit back, put him in a suit, and he’d be giving off 007 vibes.

The guy wasn’t just pretty. He was sizzling hot, and right now, he was whipping down the ice, going left, through two defenders, creating an opening to the goal and bam–the puck was slapped–denied. The goalie thrust his leg out, and the puck went off it, going behind the net.

It was picked up by the other team and sent sailing to the other side of the rink.

Off Cruz went, but he’d be back in two seconds because that’d been the theme of the night.

Grant West was pushing hard the whole night, but Cruz was leading the charge. Over and over again.

I was half winded just watching them.

“Yo.” Miles Gaynor moved next to me, his shoulder lightly bumping into mine. “You know Race Ryerson?”

“What?” I was fully in a drunk haze, and I was enjoying it.

Miles had first been a class friend. Then a party friend. Now he was kind of a roommate. A little skinny, floppy brown hair, but where it looked cute on him, and baby fresh cheeks, the guy was a looker. It’d been because of him that I was living in my own little space in the attic of a house where he and his cousin, a guy from the football team, and a couple other girls all lived as well. They were all chill, but I’d only met them twice and hanging out at the hockey game was the second time of those two instances. When my roommate from first semester left college to pursue a job in her family business, I hadn’t wanted to stick around and see who else my college chose to be her replacement. Hence, Miles.

He nodded to my left. “He’s been staring over here at you almost the whole time. Isn’t he with someone?”

I frowned, but looked around, the edges of my vision blurring before I focused and saw the guy Miles was talking about. At my look, he diverted his head, but bent down to his girlfriend, who was cheering for the team.

There went my nice buzz.

Tasmin Shaw and Race Ryerson.

As he talked to her, she stopped cheering, her smile falling as she leaned forward, her eyes searching, searching, and finding me. I frowned, narrowing my eyes, but she only went still before raising a hand up and giving me a slight wave and smile with it.

I scowled, but she barely blinked at that.

Goddamn.

“What’s the deal there?”

I jerked forward, my whole body going stiff. “Nothing.”

“He’s never been a creep before.”

“He’s not. His girlfriend is next to him. Tasmin Shaw.”

“So?”

I shrugged. “Taz is probably just confused why I moved out of the dorms. She lived across from me, that’s all.” I was lying because while she wasn’t from my hometown, she knew people who were, and I was guessing that she’d heard the gossip. Her boyfriend too.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen.

Kit: OMG! Your mom?! Are you okay?

Dad: Checking on you. Wanted to see how you’re doing? I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I know you like your space and you don’t process like that, but I’m here if you want to talk. Any time, no matter what day or hour. Love you, honey.

Nope. Kit was a friend from back home. Panic burst in my chest, right before everyone and everything began to swim around me. Turning my phone off, I refused to deal with what I knew that text was about, what the gossip that Taz and her boyfriend had heard about me. It’d been the catalyst of why I came to the game tonight. What my mom did earlier, why I panicked, drove three hours home and three hours back wasn’t going to be dealt with tonight.

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